


Operation Cindy Lou Who (Or How the Avengers Saved Christmas)

by grangerbutstranger



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, F/M, Humor, POV Female Character, POV: Natasha Romanov, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 07:23:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grangerbutstranger/pseuds/grangerbutstranger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Avengers reunite, save Christmas, and definitely aren’t doing gifts this year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Operation Cindy Lou Who (Or How the Avengers Saved Christmas)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anillogicalmind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anillogicalmind/gifts).



> Written for the be_compromised Secret Santa 2012 exchange.
> 
> For the prompts: _The rest of the team; I'd love to see how the other Avengers interpret an established C/N relationship -- can be one or all._ and _What gifts would Clint and Natasha get each other for Christmas? I'd also love to see it extended to the other avengers & Pepper etc._ I’m not sure I followed either prompt very closely, but they were definitely great inspiration!
> 
> Warnings for ridiculous amounts of dialogue, including some naughty language; fluff; extremely handwavey technology; and Christmas written by an author who doesn’t celebrate it.

Banner by [frea_o](http://frea-o.livejournal.com).

 

“Are you ready?” Natasha shrugs a shoulder up to hold the phone to her ear as she searches through her makeup bag. She hasn’t even used the lipstick during this trip. It can’t have just disappeared.

Clint snorts on the other end of the line. “Not even a little."

"Can't be worse than last time."

"Think Thor’s going to hug me? I’m pretty bruised up. Might need to wear padding.”

“You might,” she agrees, opening the dingy shower curtain. It’s a hotel room. There are only so many places to look. “I’m more worried about Stark on Christmas.”

“He strikes me as the type to wake everyone up before dawn already drunk,” Clint offers.

“I’m more worried he’ll be an asshole.” Natasha gropes around behind the toilet without flinching. (She’s done worse in seedier places.) Finally. She sticks the lipstick back in her bag. “Childhood full of neglect and all.”

“We all had pretty shitty childhoods, didn’t we? Except Thor. His sounds just marvelous.”

“You’re really worried he’ll hug you, aren’t you?”

“I'm delicate, Nat.”

“It’ll be fine.” She sticks her cosmetic bag in her backpack and hoists it over a shoulder. “I’ll see you in New York.”

The trip is a long one, but not unpleasant. She reads something trashy and spends the whole plane ride wanting to laugh, and when Clint picks her up at the airport with a, "I wanted to make a sign that said 'Deadly Assassin' in glitter, but Hill found the posterboard," she drags him to the car laughing.

"Is that the worst of it?" She gestures calmly to a set of stitches above his eye, but of course she's worried. They hadn't spent more than a month apart since June until now, and he hasn't told her everything that happened while she was away.

"No." He meets her eyes when he says it, but he's not giving her more, not right now, so she unzips her carry-on and pulls out the world's worst four-inch plastic replica of the Eiffel Tower.

She hands it to him. "Souvenir."

"You weren't even in France." He grabs her by the arm and pulls her into a hug, and she smiles into his shoulder until he leans away and starts the car. "Good to have you back."

 

\--

 

Bruce meets them at the Stark Tower entrance with his shoulders slumped and glasses slightly askew.

“Sorry. Jet lag.”

“Tell me,” Clint says, “If Tony flies you, is it suit lag?”

“Something like that,” Bruce says. “All the drinking didn’t help either.” He reaches out to shake Clint’s hand, and Natasha clasps his shoulder and squeezes, gladder to see him than she expected. “Good to see you guys. Thor’s waiting upstairs.”

“Stark?”

“Who knows?”

He leads them to the elevator, and they emerge into the newly rebuilt penthouse, walking through Pepper-decorated rooms with small touches that scream Tony, who’s waiting in the kitchen with Thor.

“Another?” Thor asks, holding out his mug, and Tony laughs and fills it with coffee that Thor slams on the counter when he sees the new arrivals. It sloshes over the sides, and Tony rolls his eyes and reaches for a paper towel. “My friends!”

Natasha levels him with a smiling glare as he rises and opens his arms, and he booms a laugh as he greets her with a firm handshake and Clint with a hard hug.

“Oof, Thor, buddy, I’m fragile,” Clint gasps.

“I apologize. Clint, Natasha, my joy at your arrival knows no bounds.”

Clint nods and pats him on the back. “Apology accepted. Glad to see you too.”

“How was the trip?” Natasha asks, settling onto the stool next to Thor’s abandoned one. “Any problems?”

“None at all, thanks to Dr. Banner.” Thor places his hands on Bruce’s shoulders and shakes him lightly.

“It was all Dr. Foster, really.”

“Jane says you were of much assistance. I believe her.”

Natasha glances at Tony, leaning against the counter with a private smile. He raises an eyebrow at her, and she lifts one in return, a peace offering.

“Steve should be here in a few hours,” Bruce announces. “I told him to bring pizza.”

As expected, it's an awkward reunion, with Steve not sure how to respond to Natasha's kiss on the cheek or Thor's attempt at a high five, but the pizza is good, no one's thrown any insults, and they all go to bed ready for tomorrow's briefing.

"There's a floor for each of you," Tony tells them during dinner. "Cap, you're on six. Great view from the living room. Thor, third floor, kitchen's stocked with Poptarts, but put Mjolnir on the first floor, please. I just had all the ceilings replaced. Banner, next one down, but you can stay next to the workshop again if you want. You two can pick between four and five. Both soundproofed, and there are targets in every room, because I don't want to hear either of you when you start shooting things at four in the morning."

"That's him," Natasha says, nudging Clint with her shoulder. "I don't need the practice."

"Well aware," Tony mutters. "He can use them when he visits."

They separate with a few murmured good nights, and Natasha follows Clint to the fourth floor.

"I'll take fifth, if you want," she says, and he shrugs.

"Are you here to interrogate me?"

"No. Just wanted to catch up."

He sighs and settles on the couch, motioning for her to join him. She leans against the armrest on the other side and stretches her legs over his lap, and he pokes her foot experimentally. She kicks him lightly in the chest.

"I'm glad you're back, Nat."

"Already said that." She brings a hand to her mouth as she yawns, startled by the force of it.

He pats her thigh and gets up. "You need to sleep. Been a long...however long it’s been."

She nods, and Clint leans over to kiss her forehead before shooing her out of the room. She pulls him with her on her way out and kisses him lightly on the lips as she waits for the elevator.

"Been a while since that happened," Clint says, with a relieved smile like he wasn’t sure it would, and kisses her again, longer, letting her go only when the elevator dings behind her. "See you in the morning."

 

\--

 

“I don’t understand,” Steve says, “Why are they targeting shopping malls?”

“It’s where the crowds are.” Fury crosses his arms and looks down at the projection from Tony’s tablet. “Nothing like Christmas to get everyone out in the open.”

Steve sits back in his chair. “Last time I went up against Hydra, they were fighting a war. What’s their goal now?”

“Oh, you know,” Clint says, “spreading fear.”

“I was under the impression that this season was a time of peace and joy throughout this realm,” Thor says, and Natasha shrugs at him. No one offers a better response.

Tony coughs. “Let me guess, are they planning a massive attack on Christmas day?”

Maria nods. “Seems like it.”

Tony looks around. “Well, gang, looks like the Grinch is here with weapons of mass destruction.”

Steve and Thor exchange a confused glance, and Fury’s sigh is audible.

 

\--

 

"Okay," Tony says, "admittedly, JARVIS' tips may not be especially helpful during Mario Kart, but I maintain that he's programmed to give them for a reason."

"What reason is that?" Bruce asks.

"I don't remember. But there was one."

Natasha gets up and brushes her hands over her pants. "I'm heading to the kitchen."

"She's taking mercy," Clint tells Thor, who nods solemnly, having just emerged from a fierce race with her.

"Anyone want anything?"

"We'll join you if we do," Bruce says, already handing Tony a controller.

Steve and Pepper are chatting over hot chocolate and gingerbread when Natasha enters the kitchen.

"Hi," Pepper greets her. "Did you win?"

"Against everyone but Clint." Natasha rolls her eyes. "He refused to play."

Steve laughs and shares a look with Pepper, who smiles softly at him. "It's funny, being back. I wasn't sure what it would be like."

"No property damage yet." Pepper makes a show of knocking on a wooden cabinet, meeting Natasha's eyes. "We'll see how long it lasts. Have some gingerbread. My PA gave it to me yesterday. Said his wife made too much."

"Pepper and I were just discussing Christmas plans," Steve tells her. "Looks like we'll be here for a few days, so we might as well celebrate."

"Tony's not a big fan of Christmas," Pepper says, "but there's always a company party on Christmas Eve, and he does like the leftovers."

"There was a lady who lived across the street from me growing up," Steve says, fiddling with the leg of a gingerbread man. "She always had cookies for me and Bucky on Christmas."

Pepper and Natasha exchange a glance, and Steve looks up, smiling. "I'm fine. It's just...it's my first Christmas in this century, and it all feels familiar."

"Centuries-old traditions have a way of doing that," Pepper suggests.

"Was it as commercial even then?" Bruce asks as he wanders in and grabs a cookie. Steve just smiles.

"Of course it was," Tony tells him, Clint following on his heels. "People are people. Thor's determined to beat another level before he succumbs to the sugary goodness," he adds through a mouthful of cookie dipped in Pepper's hot chocolate. "Damn, that's good."

"So, we doing gifts?" Clint nudges Natasha. "Nat already got me a shitty one."

"Did you specifically ask for a shitty one?" Bruce asks, and Clint shrugs.

"Yeah, maybe. But we're all here. Are we doing presents?"

"Sounds like an unnecessary hassle." Tony finishes his cookie and looks at Pepper. "Plus, Miss Potts here told me I'm supposed to be a grown-up."

"My expectations aren't high."

"I'm with Tony," Bruce says. "Besides, do we all even celebrate Christmas?"

"Clint and I don't have much in the way of childhood holiday memories," Natasha says, "And I doubt Thor grew up celebrating the birth of Christ."

"I still like presents," Clint says. "Just to be clear."

"My friends! What are we discussing?" Thor claps Tony on the back before abandoning him for the plate of cookies.

"We decided not to do Christmas gifts," Tony says. "Seems silly. But you can still buy something for Jane if you want."

"And Darcy and Selvig," Thor corrects him. "I shall embrace this earthly celebration with all of the appropriate accompanying behaviors."

"Yeah, okay," Clint says. "Wait, how many of those did you just eat?"

 

\--

 

"Of course they'd attack at nine in the morning. And on Christmas Eve," Clint grumbles.

Natasha leans against the wall, zipping and fastening the last bits of her suit. "It's obviously a personal affront."

He finishes putting on one of his wristguards and joins her, staring shoulder to shoulder out the window. No visible chaos yet, but they both know it's coming.

"Hey." He turns and invades her space, and Natasha marvels even after all this time at the fact that she lets him. She leans up to kiss him, and he weaves a hand into her hair, not quite gentle. It's nice, kissing him, when they spend so much time careful not to show affection. Careful not to feel it, sometimes, but Natasha's mostly past that phase.

"Bet Stark has cameras in here," she mutters against his jaw as the thought crosses her mind, and Clint groans.

"Do you think they know?"

"No."

"Should we tell them?"

"Why?" They don't need to know. This is hers, and it's Clint's, and it's still new enough that she worries. It's new enough to break, to shatter their whole partnership.

It won't, but she's let go of enough worries to make the leap at all. She can't help but hang on to a few.

New York--the first time--changed everything. The time between Coulson's call and the battle with the Chitauri had winded Natasha, keeping her racing only to let her crash, hard, when it was all over. Losing Clint, fighting him, preparing herself to kill him if necessary, and coaxing him back into himself had left her with the realization that the years had taken them towards what was always inevitable, the path worn smooth with time, its greatest dangers gone.

"I love you," she says before they leave. She knows he won't say it back; for all the trust they share, Clint's the one with doubts these days. But it's true, and she's said it before, and he curls a hand around the back of her neck and nods, and it's more than enough.

 

\--

 

"Okay," Tony says, hair disheveled and eyes bagged where his mask's flipped up, "Before we go..."

"I'm sure this is going somewhere just great," Bruce mutters. Bruce, Natasha has quickly realized, is not a morning person.

Tony brings out an open cardboard box. It looks like something he recycled, labeled with words Natasha assumes refer to complicated machinery.

"I figured we should go in prepared," he says. "Clint, arrows, made them to fit your usual bow."

"What do they do?" Clint asks, badly disguising his eagerness.

"Specifically designed to disable other advanced weapons. These ones are basically glorified thumb drives--no USB required, of course, I’m that good--designed to transmit a virus, if you find anything with programming. These'll send an electric shock that should short out most of the other shit, and these are just the exploding ones, with greater stability."

Clint nods appreciatively and takes them from Tony. Thor leans forward, trying to see into the box.

"Ah ah ah, wait your turn," Tony tells him. "Rest of the stuff's not for today, but I figured I might as well give it out now. Romanoff, you do most of the undercover, infiltration stuff." He waves his fingers around as he speaks before handing her a small box, which she opens to find a pair of diamond earrings. "I made pearls too, if you want them, but I might give them to Pepper."

"What do they do?"

"Video. Audio. Transmitted here. I’ll show you how to turn them on. It’s on the back. If worst comes to worst, they can call me--or I can program someone else's number--but that part's still buggy. Diamonds are real, though."

Natasha favors him with a rare outright grin and puts them on.

"Tony, are these...Christmas presents?" Bruce asks.

"I couldn't think of anything to make for the other guy," Tony says in lieu of an answer. "Finally got the last of the stuff for your lab, though."

"I have a lab?"

He tosses a key that JARVIS should theoretically render unnecessary in Bruce's direction. Bruce catches it, grinning at the cartoonish test tubes on the keychain, and Natasha understands. "You have a lab. It's in the basement, still unfinished, in case of anger. Come by and use it whenever."

"Jesus, Tony."

Tony waves a hand, ignoring him. "Cap." He hands him what looks like a cell phone. "I know you hate them. Just keep it on you today, because who knows how S.H.I.E.L.D. issue comm units'll hold up. It's all new software, should be slim enough to fit somewhere in your suit."

"Thanks, Tony," Steve says, tapping the screen thoughtfully. "This is actually great. My last one broke."

"Thor, I don't know how you'll feel about this," Tony cautions, "and it only works on this planet."

"I am eager to see it," Thor assures him. "Your creations are most remarkable."

Tony brings out a tiny, blinking chip. "It's for Mjolnir, specifically for the handle. It's just a tracking device, but a good one. So you can't actually lose track of it again, whatever your dad does, and if it gets left on earth we'll be able to keep the people with trucks away."

Thor lets out a laugh and takes it from him. "Thank you, friend."

"So...those were Christmas presents," Bruce says, accusing.

Tony flips his mask over his face, and Iron Man says, "Let's go."

 

\--

 

Steve is shivering when they get back, having been unceremoniously dumped in a puddle, and Clint's favoring his left arm. Thor is unusually silent, and Tony and Bruce just look tired.

"Are they okay?" Pepper asks Natasha quietly as the men wander to their own floors.

"Nothing as exciting as last time," Natasha says briskly. She motions for Pepper to follow her to the kitchen, where she starts making a cup of tea. "More than I would've liked, though. I think they just crashed fast. I know Clint's already had a rough couple of weeks." She glances at the door he disappeared through.

"I can't imagine Steve likes the snow much these days," Pepper muses, and Natasha assumes she's politely ignoring her expression. "And Bruce must have it rough."

"Nothing he can't handle." Natasha sighs. "Nothing any of us can't handle."

They all sleep late the next day, and Natasha knows she's not the only one with her phone by her pillow, waiting for another attack. Beating them back had only been a start.

There's a knock at her door around three, and she opens it to find Steve there, smiling. He holds up a trash bag filled with...popcorn.

"I went by the movie theater--the one from yesterday--and they gave me this," he says. "Offered free tickets for all of us, too, but I thought that was asking for trouble. We could all watch a movie in Tony's living room, though, while we wait."

Natasha smiles and follows him, and Thor eats a whole bag of popcorn while they fight over what to watch.

 

\--

 

"I think we saved Christmas." Bruce's voice shakes as he says it, and Thor hands him his cape to wrap around his bare shoulders. "Thanks."

"Does look like the last of it," Steve says, looking down at the wreckage.

"Pepper texted me and said the party is a success. Won't be home for hours, though. Shawarma, anyone?" Tony offers.

"Let's just go back to the tower," Clint says. "We can order in."

"I'll make dinner." Everyone turns to look at Bruce, who shrugs. "Just because I accidentally turned myself into a monster doesn't mean I'm not good at some stuff."

Dinner is excellent. Natasha helps Bruce cook, and Clint hovers in the kitchen, wondering aloud whether it's ever actually been used. Thor eats enough for five, but they've made enough to still have leftovers. Natasha made sure.

"Bruce," Tony says through a mouthful of chicken, "I'm throwing it back in your face."

"What?"

"This is absolutely a Christmas present."

Bruce shrugs. "You started it."

"Hey," Clint says, "No fair. The rest of us didn't have time to get in on it."

"Steve did," Natasha points out. "Weren't you planning to buy the popcorn before they forced several tons of it on you?"

Steve takes a large bite and almost chokes when Thor claps him on the back with a loud laugh.

 

\--

 

"As it is customary to exchange gifts on this day," Thor says the next morning, after dragging them out of bed, "I have brought something for each of you." He reaches into the bag and pulls out a handful of fabric. "For you," he says, handing a piece to Steve.

"Thank you, Thor," Steve says, examining it. It seems to be a scarf, lumpy and brightly colored, but charming in Thor's usual way, and Steve's smile is genuine. "Hey, did you knit this?"

"I was given most helpful instruction," he says, nodding. "The fair Darcy suggested--"

"Of course," Tony says, and gets a scarf in the face for it.

"Thank you, Thor," Natasha says as she reaches for a slightly lacy scarf that she assumes is meant for her. Thor beams, and Clint grabs it out of her hand and wraps it around her neck, tugging her forward by the ends so he can kiss her on the forehead.

"Sorry I didn't get you anything, Nat."

"I'm sure you'll find a way to make it up to me."

"I was right," Tony declares out of nowhere. "Just for the record, I was completely right. You'll all back me up and say I was right, right?"

Clint and Natasha share an eye roll as Bruce asks, "So, did we just...abandon the not giving gifts thing?"

"I only got one for Clint," Natasha says. “It wasn’t really even a Christmas present.”

Clint agrees. "I didn't get anyone anything."

"Proof is enough for me," Tony tells them, sincere.

Natasha turns to Bruce. "Should we be worried?"

Bruce shakes his head, laughing, as Tony clarifies. "I had a bet with Pepper. Although now that I think about it, I don't know if she knows it was a bet."

They eat leftovers and watch another movie, and Natasha realizes she’ll be sorry to leave.

 

\--

 

"So," she starts, curling up at the end of Clint's couch, "why the reveal?"

"I don't like you hiding," he tells her. "Or feeling like you have to, I guess. Was it okay?"

"Yeah." She gets it, she thinks. Now that they know--or think they do--the worries have subsided. It feels less fragile with the others to help carry it. Clint's always been smart that way, risking her anger to make her happy, and she thinks it was something of a declaration on his part. "You have a good Christmas?"

"Better than most," he says. "Where do you think we'll be on New Year's?"


End file.
